


baby, you have to be sure

by LSFOREVER



Series: Date Number One Through Forever [5]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Fucking, Harry in Panties, Harry's asthma makes an appearance, Lovely, M/M, Nervous Harry, You'll see what I mean, because he's so nervous, it's over I'm sobbing I love you all I'm talking about the series, last date in the series, like an almost asthma attack, more than enough consent though they don't really talk about it until after, yayayay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 04:37:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2838167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LSFOREVER/pseuds/LSFOREVER
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“And…” Harry takes a deep breath, then counts to five, continues as Louis slowly pulls the fabric from the box. “And I’m asking you to… to be my boyfriend.”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>This is it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	baby, you have to be sure

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOUIS! I LOVE YOU THIS IS DEDICATED TO YOU EVEN THOUGH I KNOW YOU WON'T (HOPEFULLY) READ THIS!!!
> 
> Also, Merry Holidays too all of my readers! Thank you sooooo much for sticking with me through this! It really means a lot, and I could ramble on and on forever about how much I love you and how much I thank you for reading this, but I won't because I know you'd like to get on to the fic now.
> 
> Official thank yous and links will be in the end note. If you haven't read the first four fics in this series, [here's](http://archiveofourown.org/series/165875) the link to them. I would strongly recommend you read those before this; it'll make so much more sense if you do. I love you all, and here you go. Enjoy!
> 
> \-- Kat Xx

 

Harry can’t breathe.

Okay, that’s a lie. Harry can breath, but he’s close to feeling like he can’t, and his inhaler isn’t in the glove box. Fuck. Louis’ expecting him to come up any minute now and he can’t walk up there wheezing like an idiot.

The only thing Harry can think of is calling Zayn, because if he were to call Perrie, she’d freak. He fumbles for his phone and it takes forever to pull up Zayn’s contact and press call, but eventually he does. He returns to pulling out all the receipts and extra cords from the glove box while it rings.

After two rings, Zayn answers, “Harry?”

“Z,” Harry gasps, flopping back into the driver’s seat and pressing his free hand hard over his chest. “Wh-where’s my inhaler?”

Fuck, he’s breathing really hard now. It’s been years since he’s had an asthma attack and this isn’t even an asthma attack – Harry would know and they are not fun. He’d been psyching himself up into finally going in and finding Louis’ office. It doesn’t sound like much of a task, but Harry is nervous as fuck, okay, and he’s about to ask Louis to be his boyfriend in a couple of hours, so of course he’s going to have a little bit of a freak.

Zayn sounds a bit panicked when he says, “The little pouch under the seat. Fuck, I hid it in there so it wouldn’t get stolen or anything. Harry are…”

Harry drops the phone in his lap, reaching under his seat and searching for the soft material of the blue pouch. When he finds it, it only takes four seconds before he’s pulling it out, bringing it to his mouth, and pressing down on the top.

Instantly Harry’s lungs feel better, after inhaling, and Harry’s face is cooling off. He can hear Zayn shouting, so he picks up the phone. “Yeah,” he pants out. “’M alright now.”

“What happened?” Zayn sounds relieved, but maybe there’s a bit of pissed off hidden in there. Harry doesn’t feel like trying to find it.

“Just got really nervous.” Zayn and Perrie know about what Harry is planning, and he glances over to the passenger seat at the little purple box containing Louis’ blue scarf. “Was about to go up and get him.”

“Babe,” Zayn sighs. “You’ll be alright now? Please promise me you won’t have an asthma attack when he’s fucking you.”

Harry gasps. “Zayn!” he whisper yells, sitting up straighter. That’s. No. Harry shakes his head while packing his inhaler away. He’s quick while doing so, snatching up the box and hiding it under his seat next to his inhaler.

“Harry,” Zayn says back in the same manner.

“I’ve never had breathing problems during… things like that,” Harry says, whispering the end. This isn’t something he wants to talk about, not right now, and not with Zayn. “If I did you would know this.”

When a tap sounds on Harry’s window, Harry jumps ten feet and nearly screams, jerking, but then he sees Louis cracking up outside and he scowls. “What was that?” asks Zayn, and even he sounds like he might be laughing a little.

“Nothing,” Harry snaps. He hangs up and throws the car door open. “What the hell, Lou?”

It takes a moment, but Louis stops laughing. He steps closer, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck for a tight hug. “I wasn’t trying to scare you, babe.” The pet name throws Harry off a bit, but he likes it. A lot, actually. Plus, Louis is warm and he smells good and the coat he’s wearing is sexy as fuck on him. It’s not the same coat from Saturday.

“I know,” Harry hugs Louis close. “Sorry for not coming up. I’ve been here for a while.” When Louis quirks an eyebrow, still standing close enough for their bodies to be pressed, Harry explains, “I, uh, got kind of nervous…” He looks down. “And couldn’t find my inhaler.”

Saying it makes him blush because he realizes how pathetic it sounds, how pathetic it was for that to actually happen. Louis frowns, a hand coming up to cup Harry’s cheek. “And you’re okay now? I didn’t know you had asthma.”

Harry shudders as Louis’ thumbs brushes over his lip, soft and warm. He nods. “I’m good, yeah, but I haven’t had a problem with my asthma in over a year.”

Louis still looks concerned, but he sighs and nods, scratching over Harry’s chest when he leans up to kiss him, and Harry’s breath his knocked out of him. It always happens when they kiss, especially when Louis has that certain sparkle in his eyes after pulling away, and Harry realizes how bad on his lungs that is for him right now.

“Well, let’s go then.” Louis tugs on his hand back to the car. “I purposefully ate a light breakfast for this.” He smirks back at Harry, who smiles back.

They get in, and when Louis places his hand over Harry’s on the gearshift, the smile on his face is permanent the whole ride to the restaurant. Under Harry’s pea coat is a loose, dark green button up, paired with blue skinny jeans and black boots, and he hopes he looks okay. Not too dressed up, yet not too casual, as Perrie had put it earlier this morning. His hair is down, under the black beanie, no scarf or braid.

Louis’ legs look perfect in those gray slacks, the material tight and stretched over his thick thighs, and Harry doesn’t know if he’ll be able handle the shirt Louis’ wearing under his coat.

Harry needs to keep his eyes on the road and not Louis’ legs, because getting into a crash right now would be the worst. Louis, besides the hand he keeps on Harry’s, fingers between Harry’s, looks everywhere and touches his almost clean car. The receipts are still cluttering the floor from where he’d been freaking out earlier.

“Where are we going?” Louis asks once it’s been longer than fifteen minutes, which is the longest it takes to get anywhere in their town.

Harry can see the restaurant now, the exit just a little further ahead, and he’s aware of the box under his seat too. “To eat,” he answers just to be stubborn.

Though Louis throws him a slightly amused glance, eyebrow raised and everything, he’s quiet until after Harry pulls into the small parking lot of the small, but very successful French eatery. “Harry,” he murmurs after Harry opens the door for him. Louis shakes his head, but keeps his fingers in Harry’s as Harry leads the way. “I thought we were having brunch?”

Harry squeezes Louis’ hand, locking the car and slipping the keys in his pocket. “We are,” he say s back, and holds the door for Louis as they walk in. Louis’ eyes go wide like he’s never been here before, looking around and taking everything in. Harry’s only been here a few times because of how expensive it is, but it’s one of his favorite places and he got a Christmas raise in his last check, so he deems Louis more than worthy enough for it all.

“Hello,” a woman says at the podium once they’ve hung their coats up – Harry was right, he can’t handle Louis’ tight, buttoned up, short sleeved shirt – and she’s holding two menus for them already.

“Reservation for Styles, please.” Louis raises his eyebrows up at Harry, who bites his lip, shrugs, and pulls him to follow the hostess. He’s already nervous enough, and now’s he’s beginning to worry that this all might be too much.

They’re seated and immediately, Harry feels Louis’ ankles tangle with his under the table, the smile stuck on his face the whole time they name their drinks to the waiter. Louis’ just so beautiful and smiling, and Harry knows this was the right choice no matter how many doubts run through his crazy filled mind.

Louis’ hair is swooped up with a bit of gel off his forehead. Harry knows it’s not possible, maybe, but Louis’ eyes look an even brighter blue than usual, and he has to look away before too long. Louis is just so beautiful and lovely that sometimes Harry wonders what he ever did to deserve him.

His thoughts are cut short when the waiter comes back to their table, asking if they’re ready to order yet. Louis’ menu is closed and he’s handing it over, so Harry does the same. No, he didn’t look at the menu, but Harry likes most foods so when Louis says, “Mushroom Ravioli, please,” Harry says, “Same.”

Harry doesn’t look up until the waiter is outside of earshot. Louis is looking curiously at him, hands clasped together on top of the table. Harry wants to hug him, wants to feel Louis’ arms around his shoulders.

What he wants more, though, is to have Louis looming over him again, hand wrapped around him tight, except maybe Louis’ cock will be somewhere else that isn’t his hand. Harry knows it’s wrong to be thinking of Louis like that while they’re on their fourth date – fifth for Louis because he considers them at the park a date, while Harry considers it was just them hanging out – and Harry is about to ask Louis to be his boyfriend.

But god damnit, the worst case scenario is Louis says no, which Harry is certain will not happen. No, that can’t happen, because if it does then Harry won’t get Louis’ hands on him and he _really_ wants that.

“What’s up?” Louis asks, seeming to have noticed the way Harry shifted a bit and pulled his feet back to himself under the table. He reaches for Harry’s hand and Harry lets him, staring at those fingers and not being able to help the images of them in places not appropriate to be thinking about at the moment.

“Um,” Harry manages to choke out, shoving his wrist over his mouth and keeping his eyes trained on the table.

“Harry,” says Louis firmly, but at the same time it’s with that soft tone that always makes Harry’s stomach flutter. He looks up then, at Louis, who is smiling a small smile that makes Harry smile too. “You’ve been acting a bit strange all day… are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m more than okay,” Harry answers immediately, nodding. “I am, I promise. I just…” It’s when Louis raises an eyebrow that Harry realizes he has no reason of not telling him what his mind keeps going to. Louis has admitted before that when he’s not thinking about how wonderful Harry is, he’s thinking about Harry in inappropriate ways, so why should Harry keep it a secret?

Looking around for any wandering eyes or ears, Harry sees that they are the only ones in the restaurant right now besides two other people, all the way on the other side. Even if he didn’t whisper, they probably wouldn’t be able to hear him, so taking a deep breath and keeping his eyes trained on the table, he mumbles, “Can’t stop looking at your hands…”

And the problem is that Harry has always been a bit uncomfortable talking about things like this, especially in the open like they are right now. He can feel his whole face and neck and chest warming up.

“What about them?” prompts Louis, his voice light like he has no idea where this is headed. One look at his impish eyes proves him wrong.

Harry sighs, rolling his eyes at the man, and blurting out, “And how amazing they felt on me!” but it’s in a hushed yell. He looks around quickly, again, and nobody is close enough to have been able to hear him.

Louis chuckles throatily, squeezing his hands. Harry glances at it again, bites his lip, and takes a deep breath. Louis says, “And how much you want them on you right now, huh? I have no objections to that, you know, and I especially wouldn’t mind it happening back at mine after we’re done eating.”

“Yeah?” Harry sounds too eager, he knows, but he can’t help it. Anybody would be eager if Louis Tomlinson offered them something like that, alone time in his bedroom. Louis nods, and Harry giggles a little, already thinking ahead to what Louis might have planned back at his place. Maybe…

No! Harry needs to stop this because he can see their waiter carrying their food, half way to their table, and Harry really doesn’t want to chance anybody seeing him with a semi.

-

They eat in silence, mostly, with a few comments on how tasty the food is and the giggles that Harry can’t help when Louis tries to feed him and fails, getting sauce on his chin. But even though they’re both comfortable enough with each other to sit in silence while they eat, Harry catches Louis watching him more often than not, and that’s saying quite a bit because the only time Harry isn’t looking at Louis is when he’s looking at his food to make sure he doesn’t stab anything with the fork by accident.

He’s a bit jumpy, fidgety in this chair, even gasping a little when Louis trails his sock-but-not-shoe-covered toes up the inside of his calf. Louis smirks at him from across the table, shaking his head down to his nearly empty bowl.

Harry knows he isn’t subtle, especially not when he needs to be, like right now. It’s obvious that something is up, and he knows this, but the harder he tries to act normal, the more obvious it becomes that today is anything but normal.

One look at his nearly empty plate, and Harry knows he’s done. He could eat the rest, but if he fills his stomach too much, there’s more of a chance of him hurling it up in the process of asking Louis the scary question that he’s about too here soon. He also, no matter how many times he kicks Louis’ foot away, can’t seem to get Louis to stop. Louis’ even ventured as far as too tickle his toes up the inside of Harry’s thigh, making Harry burst out a laugh that had startled a nearby waitress.

After the waiter gives his card back and their extra food and breadsticks are boxed up, Harry stands and stretches, offering a hand out to Louis. Louis shifts a bit, biting his lip while making a face, and Harry rolls his eyes with a smile when he realizes Louis is trying to put his shoe back on.

“You’re ridiculous,” he mutters at the man after he stands, picking up the box. They bid their waiter a good day, then once at the door, Louis helps him with his coat, sneaking in a few quick kisses while doing so  and making Harry smile.

This is the point where Harry doesn’t know what to do, walking to the car with Louis’ hand in his. Should he pull out the scarf and ask now? Or should he wait until they get back to Louis’? Or maybe he could drive Louis to the café they had their first date in, buy him some ice cream, and ask him there?

“Seriously, Harry,” Louis stops him when they get to the car to say, looking up with worried eyes through his pretty eyelashes.. “What’s going on? You’ve been acting weird all day. Is… Did I do something?” The look of concern that washes over Louis’ face makes Harry feel bad instantly.

His eyes go wide, because _no_ , not at all, and he steps closer. Great. Now he has Louis thinking that he’s done something wrong, which is the complete opposite. “No,” Harry pleads, taking Louis’ face in his hands. “You’ve done everything right this whole time. I’m just… I’m really nervous right now. I – Happy birthday.” Harry can’t believe he’s just now remembering to say that.

Louis eyes light up and he smiles, though there are hints of worry in there still. He says, “Thank you, Harry,” while hugging Harry tight.

Louis lets go, walking around to the passenger side, getting in before Harry has a chance to even think about opening the door for him, and that makes Harry frown a little. He gets in anyways, super conscious of the box that burns a hole through his seat the whole ride to Louis’ place. Louis’ hand finds his again on the gear shift. It’s a warm constant that helps to calm Harry to the point where he could blurt it out any second and not regret it.

He knows that won’t be the case, especially when he pulls up to a stop in front of Louis’ building and Louis is already jumping out. Taking a moment to breathe in deep and slowly let it out, Harry then gets the small purple box from under his seat and gets out of the car too.

Louis is on him in seconds, hands tight on his hips, body pressing him hard against his car, and mouth covering his. Harry’s hands are trapped between them holding the box, but he kisses back in the same feverish manner as Louis. Louis’ thumbs are pressed to Harry’s skin right next to his hipbones, under the waistband of his jeans, and he feels pathetic because of how much this is already affecting him.

Sure they’ve done this before, but never outside like this, where anybody could walk by and see how much Louis turns Harry on, how much Harry loves the way Louis is licking in his mouth like this. His insides churn and this time, it’s not from nerves.

“Lou,” he says, pushing at Louis’ chest a little. He really needs to ask Louis this before he loses his nerve. “Hey.”

Louis pushes back in and kisses Harry harder, a tiny grunt sounding from somewhere deep in his throat when Harry nibbles on his lip a little. “Fuck, Harry,” he mumbles against Harry’s lips, and Harry is very aware that if his hands and the box weren’t trapped between them Louis would be able to rut up against him.

Outside. In the freezing cold, the few inches of snow that’s left leaving everything a dirty, muddy white. Where anybody and everybody can see them.

The thought shouldn’t make Harry whimper, but it does.

“Louis,” Harry tries again, pushing a little harder at Louis chest.

“Mmm,” hums Louis, littering kisses all over Harry’s jaw in wait. “Fuck, Harry. Please don’t push me away. All I’ve been thinking about this whole time is getting my hands on you and making you feel so good.”

Louis goes back to kissing him, and Harry lets it go on for a few more long moments, enjoying the taste of Louis and how brilliant of a kisser he is. But he does push Louis away for real this time, keeping a hand on his elbow so he doesn’t stumble back too far.

“Lou,” he pants, pushing off the car and holding the box out. “This is really important, alright? ‘S not just something we can wait until later to discuss.”

Louis raises an eyebrow, looking a little hurt that Harry pushed him away, but he takes the box anyways. When he looks down, his eyes go wide. “Is this a birthday present? Harry you didn’t have to – what does the B stand for?”

The little cursive B in gold on the lid of the box stands out against the dark purple. Harry rings his hands together, bites his lip. Alright, he can do this. He can _so_ do this. “It is a birthday present, but also a Christmas present,” and he really hopes Louis doesn’t think of him as pathetic for buying him a scarf. It was money he didn’t have, but. Fuck.

He doesn’t really care. He’s already bought Zayn and Perrie and his family back in Cheshire and even Niall and Liam some Christmas presents. A 300£ scarf, which is more than all the other gifts he bought this year combined, he’s hoping will be the perfect birthday/Christmas/big question present.

“And…” urges Louis, who’s eyes sparkle as he slowly takes the lid off.

“And…” Harry takes a deep breath, then counts to five, continues as Louis slowly pulls the fabric from the box. “And I’m asking you to… to be my boyfriend.”

Harry watches as Louis runs his fingers over the silky fabric, watches his expression stay mostly neutral while his eyes scan over the scarf, glance up at Harry, and then back down at the scarf. The silence stretches on, falling over them like a thick blanket. It makes Harry’s stomach turn, and he takes in a sharp breath when his lungs clench.

Why won’t he talk? He’s just staring at the scarf in his hands and he won’t say anything. Harry bites his lip and looks away, down the street at some other people walking in the opposite direction, walking down the sidewalk and avoiding the snow piles and puddles.

 Even a no would be better than this silence. Harry would take a no and just being friends over any kind of silence.

Just as he feels the backs of his eyes start to prickle, the unwanted tears threatening to explode – he doesn’t want to cry, not now, not in front of Louis – there’s a hand grasping his arm, and Harry’s eyes snap up to Louis’. The hope bubbling in his chest is probably too much, probably shines through every pore in his face, every single follicle of his being.

It’s not such a bad feeling, especially after Harry sees the smile Louis is sporting, paired with watery eyes of his own and the scarf tied around his neck.

“You don’t even realize how happy you’ve made me, do you?” is what Louis finally responds with, and Harry may need a few minutes or a few centuries to sit down and breath.

Harry does the only thing he can think of that won’t make him seem like an eager, clingy type of guy. He shakes his head, taking a little step closer. This close, Harry can feel Louis’ body heat rolling off of him in waves, and he really wishes they were upstairs in Louis’ flat rather than down here in the cold.

Chuckling quietly, the man in front of him hugs close, face pressed to Harry’s shoulder. Harry runs a finger over the softness of Louis’ scarf before hugging him back, tight and close, like it always should be. The cold is starting to get to Harry more now, but Louis feels too good to let go of right now in order to go upstairs, and Louis still has some explaining to do.

“When we talked about this, I didn’t think you’d go all out like this, taking me to an expensive restaurant and buying me the most expensive article of clothing I’ve ever worn.” Louis pulls back, but just enough so they can see each other, faces inches apart.  “I wasn’t expecting so soon either… I know this must’ve been really hard on you – fuck. This is probably why you had an asthma attack earlier, isn’t it? You know I’d say yes, I’ll always say yes.”

“I – it – ” Harry sighs, slouches a little into the embrace. That’s a yes, right? “It wasn’t an asthma attack,” he says. “I was just nervous, is all… But it was worth it.”

Louis’ eyes go wide, jaw dropping open a little in surprise. Harry bites his lip, hoping he hasn’t said the wrong thing. “Asking me to be your boyfriend – which, yes, by the way, a million times yes – is worth having an almost asthma attack and nearly losing your shit from nerves?”

And the thing is… is that yes. Harry would lose four of his toes and his right testicle if it meant being able to call Louis his boyfriend. He bites his lip harder, nodding, because while what Louis had said is very true, he also doesn’t want come across as too sappy or too head-over-heels for Louis already.

Plus, Louis said yes what the fuckity fuck?!

At the same moment that Harry is about to explain, Louis kisses him, forceful but with his own special sweetness tangled in. Warmth sparks through Harry, starting from his lips and travelling down to his heart, to his gut, groin. It has Harry shuddering because the rest of his body is freezing and because Louis is his boyfriend and he has a feeling that this is it. This is it for him, for them. He’s got nothing to worry about anymore.

“Out of the cold, yeah?” murmurs Louis, and Harry instantly misses the warmth of Louis’ lips on his own, but he follows Louis inside and upstairs anyway.

Louis is holding the box in one hand, and the color of the scarf makes his skin look even more tan, more golden than usual. It’s lovely on him, but Harry is kind of hoping he’ll be able to take it off of him soon; he’d rather his mouth be touching Louis’ neck than the scarf.

When they get inside, Harry  follows Louis’ lead, kicking off his shoes, shrugging out of his coat, stuffing his beanie in the pocket of it after hanging it up, the likes. When he turns back around, Louis is slowly and carefully folding his scarf back up, and tucking it carefully in the box. It makes Harry smile, knowing that Louis is just as careful with it as he’d hoped.

Louis looks a bit ridiculous, in just some red and green Christmas socks that do not match his super posh outfit at all, but Harry doesn’t care if his clothes match, as long as he’s always looking at Harry with that special smile like he is right now.

Harry walks closer to him, thankful that the flat is much warmer now. Louis is holding the box, and Harry follows when Louis takes his hand and leads him down the hall to his bedroom. Louis carefully puts the box in his bedside drawer, making Harry blush when he catches himself looking up and down Louis’ bent-over body.

Those slacks do Louis’ bum and thighs justice, more so than any other clothing Harry has ever seen Louis swear. They hug in just the right places, and Harry is suddenly aware of the underwear he’d chose to wear this morning. Some dark blue knickers he’s forgotten he put on this morning, feeling wonderful against his half hard cock.

Then, Louis empties his pockets of his keys, wallet, and phone out on the top of the bedside table so Harry walks over and does the same. He places his phone right next to Louis’, as well as his wallet and keys, and ducks his head when Louis smiles up at him.

They’re standing close now, like how they were down by the car not too long ago. Harry pulls Louis in a hug, smiles as Louis hugs back tighter, then giggles when Louis pulls him down on the bed. Harry lands ungracefully on top of Louis with a _hmph!_ , but mainly because his crotch had landed a bit roughly on Louis’ hip which was uncomfortable.

Harry doesn’t know what to do now. Louis is his boyfriend, and he’s Louis’, and they’re both happy. But Harry can feel the way Louis is poking his hip too. He doesn’t know what Louis wants, if Louis is expecting him to bend over and give up his body now.

Deep down, he knows Louis doesn’t expect anything from him, but he’s still a bit worried because he’s not sure he’s ready for his bum to be played with… just yet. Louis kisses him deeply after he whispers this, and when they part, he gives Harry a small kind of smile that gives him butterflies. “Wasn’t expecting you to be ready yet anyways.”

He kisses Harry again, who in turn brushes his hips down, just the tiniest of pressure making him that much harder. Louis speaks up again in a whisper, “But I would like to get my mouth on you, if that’s alright,” giving Harry shivers down his spine.

He’s nodding a second later, accepting the kiss Louis offers while Louis rolls them over so Harry’s head is on the pillows, Louis sliding between his legs. Harry misses Louis’ mouth as soon as he pulls away, whining a little in the back of his throat, though Louis pulls him up soon after to help him with his shirt. Harry returns the favor, his eyes catching the sight of Louis straining against the material of his slacks.

No matter how much Harry wants to wait, just a little longer to make sure, he still can’t help but to wonder what Louis would feel like pushing deep inside him. And also what it would be like the other way around, though he and Louis haven’t talked about that yet so he doesn’t even know if Louis likes both like he does.

He’ll find out soon enough, maybe even after Louis gets him off.

There’s damp, warm breaths hitting his neck now, making him shiver some more and writhe up, in hopes of something but finding nothing. He feels when Louis pops the button of his jeans and unzips them, and it takes a bit, but soon enough they’ve both managed to peel them off his long legs. Maybe he should’ve worn some jeans that weren’t so tight.

His thoughts are all thrown out the window as soon as he sees Louis’ eyes and the way they widen, then darken as they settle over the dark blue mostly containing Harry’s erection. Right, Harry remembers Louis mentioning something about imagining Harry in blue knickers on their first date.

“Harry,” Louis’ voice sounds strained, and before Harry has any warning, Louis is ducking down, mouth hot over the head of Harry’s cock through the knickers. He mouths there for a moment, getting the silky cloth ever more wet with his saliva.

Harry’s hips jump on their own accord, though Louis doesn’t seem to mind as he reaches a hand up to rub over the rest of Harry. He can’t see straight already, and Louis hasn’t even gotten him fully naked.

That changes soon enough when Louis must decide he’s ready for more, because he sits back up and takes the knickers off so fast Harry’s afraid he might’ve torn them. Then Harry’s fully naked while Louis is only naked from the waist up, but that’s okay because Louis goes right back to where he was – lips slowly wrapping around the head of his cock, tongue poking out to lick over his slit.

Harry throws his head back with a soft moan, clutching tight to the sheets, so tight that his knuckles almost start to hurt. He’s only received head a handful of times, and only then it was on his birthday when his ex’s were feeling generous.

Louis, though, seems to be enjoying this just as much as Harry is. His mouth vibrates around Harry with sounds after every time he licks or sucks a particularly wonderful way. He’s got Harry half way down by now, and Harry really thinks he’ll come like this. Louis doesn’t even half to deep-throat him, because his hand comes up to covers the rest and he gives ace head.

Every time he pulls up, he twist his hand and tongues over the head, rough enough to be on the slightly painful side, but that’s okay because Harry likes it. Then he pushes back down and sucks, like his life depends on it, like either him or Harry will die right now if he doesn’t.

Harry thinks he just might.

“Louis,” he pants, trying to get up on his elbows so he can see the way Louis’ pink lips are stretched around him, tight and wet. He’s successful on the second try, though he almost falls right to the bed again because Louis’ got spit and precome on his chin, dripping down over his hand. It’s wet and wonderful, fuck, and Harry seriously might die right here and now.

Louis opens his eyes, humming when they connect with Harry’s. They shine so bright, and not just from tears, Harry can tell. It all makes Harry whine and throw his head back on the pillows again because he can’t take this anymore. He needs to come now.

Louis must get it, because he pulls off, dragging his hand up and down slowly. His hot breath hits Harry’s stomach as he mouths along there, and Harry bites back another sound. He was really hoping that Louis would let him come in his mouth, but if that’s not what Louis wants, then Harry is okay with that.

“Gonna come?” asks the blue-eyed man. His voice is wrecked already, and he didn’t even take Harry down all the way. Harry feels himself twitch in Louis’ hand as he nods, biting back another whine. “Good,” Louis continues.

As if he’s been reading Harry’s mind this whole time, Louis dips in and takes Harry down again, dragging his hand away to hold Harry’s hip down. This time, Louis keeps pushing down, hollowing his cheeks, repressing his gag reflex, and Harry can’t help but to moan as he slips into Louis’ tight throat.

With Louis’ nose pressed to the sparse hair he has around the base of his cock, Harry bites the inside of his cheek, squeezing his eyes shut tight, and holding onto the sheets for dear life.

Then, _then_ , Louis sucks, and _hard_ , tighter and harder than Harry’s ever felt before, and Harry immediately comes. He shouts, “Fuck,” then whines out, “Lou.” His body shakes and Louis just takes it, swallows everything and works him through it like a champ. He comes even harder than he did when Louis had jerked him off with both hands last time, harder than he ever has.

He’s beginning to think that Louis makes him feel more, better, than anybody else has, and that he’s going to think that Louis makes him come the hardest yet every time they’re together like this.

It’s not that absurd of a thing to think, or to happen.

Harry’s gasping for air still as Louis kisses his way up his body, and he nearly cries when Louis says his name with that scratchy, fucked-out voice and kisses him. The aftershocks last longer than ever, his cock twitching when the front of Louis’ slacks brush over it.

Louis kisses him some more, before he’s moving back, and then off the bed. “Louis,” Harry whispers, reaching out for him. “What… don’t leave.” He may sound desperate and sad, but Louis seriously can’t be leaving right now, can he?

“Not going anywhere love,” Louis replies. It turns out he’s only peeling off his own bottoms, as well as his briefs, and then he’s climbing back into bed next to Harry.

Harry wraps around him as soon as he can, needing the warmth and closeness. Then, a thought crosses his mind and he pulls Louis up so they’re eyes meet. “Can I do you too?”

He knows Louis didn’t get off, can feel him hard and sticky with precome against his thigh. Louis’ eyes light up and he nods. “Of course,” he says, and after kissing Harry, he crawls up so he’s straddling Harry’s chest. “This alright?”

Harry’s eyes widen a little, trained right in front of him. “…More than.”

Louis’ dick must be the nicest he’s ever seen, and it’s right in front of his face right now, which has Harry smiling. Once he opens his mouth, staring up at Louis with wide eyes that he knows make him look more innocent than he has any right to, Louis growls and pushes forward, guiding himself past Harry’s lips.

Harry’s always loved this, the feeling of another man’s cock heavy against his tongue, filling his mouth up nicely, and it’s no different with Louis. He loves this more so now than he ever did with his ex’s.

It doesn’t take long for Louis to come, mainly, Harry thinks, because he lays there and just takes it. Louis fucks in deep and fast, hand clenched tight in his hair, and Harry loves this too. He especially loves when Louis pulls out just in time to splatter himself all over Harry’s tongue and lips, a little even dribbling down to Harry’s chin. The sound he makes is broken and loud, and Harry is worried for a moment that the neighbors might’ve heard him.

He finds that he doesn’t care that much, not after he swallows everything in his mouth and lick up what’s left, tasting Louis’ come.

Louis is still breathing hard when he crawls back down to cuddle into Harry’s side, and Harry is too, but for a totally different reason. He shivers because Louis is warm against him, but he can’t cover Harry’s other side.

With his face in Harry’s neck, Louis whispers, “Gonna have to talk about that.” Harry’s confused for half a second before Louis elaborates. “How you willingly let me fuck your mouth like that.”

“I liked it,” Harry insists, and if he hadn’t just gotten sucked within seconds of his life, he’d probably he hard again to prove that he honestly, truly did like Louis’ doing that.

“Yeah, but. ‘S different than actually fucking you. I could seriously choke you or cut off your breathing for too long by accident, and I really don’t want to hurt you.” His hand smoothes over Harry’s shoulder and down his arm, where he entwines their fingers.

It’s nice, makes Harry smile and squeeze back, before he responds. “You won’t hurt me. I… I like that.”

Louis looks at him a bit hesitantly, but he shrugs, nods, and says, “You really do?” Harry nods. “Alright. But we’re still talking about. Not today, but someday.”

“M’kay.” Harry’s a bit tired now and could go for a nap, but then Louis’ phone starts ringing on the bedside table. He’s closest so he extends his long arm to grab it, and both he and Louis gasp when they see the caller ID. “You have Simon Cowell’s number in your phone?”

“W – I.” Louis shakes his head and sighs, takes a deep breath, then takes the phone from him. “I never thought he’d actually call… Hello?” he answers.

Harry sits up with him, pulling up the Lord Of The Rings blanket to at least warm their bodies from the waist down. He rests his head on Louis’ shoulder, close to share warmth. He can hear Simon on the other end of the line, but not enough to actually make out what he’s saying. This is Louis’ and Liam’s business; Harry shouldn’t eavesdrop.

While Louis talks on the phone, Harry gets his own and pulls up the messages between him and Zayn. He’s got two, asking if he needed his inhaler again and how the date it going, and so he sends a reply back giving him the news. No doubt either him or Perrie will be calling back within minutes, so he turns his own ringer off.

His mind wanders to this whole day and how it’s gone. Louis has always been so sweet to him, and today is no different. From the start of the morning, Louis’ attention has been on Harry and Harry only, smiling bright and staying close.

Louis hasn’t complained about Harry being too clingy, which is a plus in Harry’s book, and he hopes it stays that way. He hopes Louis likes the physical contact, that Louis likes to cuddle a lot and likes holding hands and being close, because that’s what Harry wants, needs. He doesn’t think he can handle another guy who’ll keep him around for his looks and who will flirt with others right in front of him.

Louis hangs up not too long later, and after carefully setting his phone back on the table, he’s jumping on Harry’s lap and hugging him so tight Harry’s coughing. “Oh my fucking god, Harry!” he exclaims, excitement pouring out of his voice is waves. Harry smiles and hugs back. “Oh my god oh my god oh my god!”

“Louis,” Harry chuckles, smoothing back his hair and looking right at him. “Relax, babe. Tell me what happened.”

Taking a deep breath, Louis leans forward and kisses Harry once, twice, then rushes out, “They’re signing us. Well, Liam. But Simon said he and his crew up at SYCO are making up a contract right now for Liam, and one for me to be his personal manager. _Fuck_ , Harry do you realize what this means?”

Harry chuckles. “That my boyfriend is going to get rich and famous and travel the world?” he teases, though he knows that’s exactly what will happen. Liam is so amazing; he’ll be more famous than ever, Louis right along with him.

Louis chuckles, and the blush that creeps up his face surprises Harry. “Don’t say things like that. We don’t know what his contract is for just yet.”

Harry doesn’t argue, but he doesn’t agree either. Instead, Harry rolls his eyes and brings Louis in for a congratulations kiss, holding him close. He’s aware of their nakedness, and how if Louis were to press down anymore, they’d rub together perfectly.

Louis seems to notice too, since he does just that, making Harry gasp and bat at his chest. “No. Not yet. – ” Louis kisses him deeper, which only makes him push Louis away even more. “Lou,” he giggles. “You need to tell Liam first.”

“Then you’ll let me rub you off?”

Harry makes a show of thinking about it, to which Louis sighs dramatically and reaches for his phone again. Laughing, he says, “Alright, yeah. But I want tea first and Liam better be crying by the time you try again.”

“So demanding.” Louis rolls his eyes but he climbs off Harry and the bed, and holds his hand out to help Harry up.

There’s a few seconds where they stand their staring at each other, hands clasped between them. They’re both still naked, but Harry is more comfortable now than he ever was with the other two, even in the beginning. Louis is just so wonderful and Harry feels more, feels stronger about him than he ever did with the other two.

Sure, he went through hell with them, but without them, he wouldn’t have found Louis, so in a way, he’s sort of thankful.

Not much, though, because they were both assholes.

Louis’ looking at him like he holds the stars and the moon and the whole universe in his hands, and Harry knows he must be looking back in the same manner. He’s glad he went out with Louis that one Wednesday, that he hadn’t put it off any longer.

He wouldn’t be where he is now if he hadn’t. Harry pulls Louis in close and hugs him. “Thank you,” he whispers. It’s the only thing he can think to say right now.

“What for?” asks Louis, hugging back.

“Just… Everything,” he settles on. It’s not much, but it’s the best he can do right now. Maybe later he can spill his heart out and explain to Louis why he’s so thankful to have him in his life. “Really.”

“Well, you’re very welcome,” Louis says back. He kisses Harry on the temple softly before snatching up a few articles of clothing for them. “Now let’s go get some tea and listen to Liam cry, yeah?”

 _Yeah_ , Harry thinks as he pulls on some of Louis’ boxers, then sweats and a jumper. Let’s go get some tea, and listen to Liam cry, and then probably Perrie when she decides to call again.

With Louis’ hand in his, Harry follows out to the kitchen, taking a look around. Niall and Louis may be a bit messy, but Harry has a feeling he’ll be spending a lot more time here, and that’s a thought that warms his heart to no ends.

**Author's Note:**

> Official THANK YOUS:  
> [My beta, Aaya](http://unwrittenheart.tumblr.com/)!! -- I could say a lot but I won't because I am aware that you probably already know.  
> [Bonnie](http://larryismyotpuniverse.tumblr.com/)!! -- Yeah...  
> EVERYONE ELSE WHO HAS STAYED ALONG WITH ME THROUGH THIS!! -- Thank you for reading and giving me ideas and keeping me inspired! And for those who are reading this and it's been forever since I've posted, thank you for reading too! It really means a lot and I love you all.
> 
> I am currently working on a few other things, (for example: a Ziam fic that I am still trying to decide if it will be a really long one-shot or a short story), so this isn't the last you'll see from me, I promise!!
> 
> \-- Kat XX


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